y ot 



■ ii m »w »«» mum] " ; 

014 077 362 1 



Hollinger 

pH 83 

MaiRunBOS.2193 



74 
D4 S62 
opy 1 



JOHN SHELDON 



AND THE 



OLD INDIAN HOUSE 
HOMESTEAD 



BY 



J. ARMS SHELDON 



A PAPER READ BEFORE THE POCUMTUCK VALLEY 

MEMORIAL ASSOCIATION AT ITS FIELD 

MEETING, AUGUST 22, 1911 




PRINTED BY 

T. MOREY & SON 

GREENFIELD, MASS. 



7^ t^T<^ 





C^^n^y^^^^ 




, y^P,^^^^ 




J^7^~l^ 



JOHN SHELDON AND THE OLD 
INDIAN HOUSE HOMESTEAD. 

Every human being and every homestead is a part of 
the great, throbbing life of this planet, we call the earth. 
Whether the individual or the homestead fits harmoniously 
into the larger life is a matter for history to decide. It is 
the object of this paper to point out, clearly if possible, 
the relations existing between John Sheldon and the Old 
Indian House Homestead, and the universal life of the 
seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. 

The almanacs of both hemispheres gave the year as 
1682. Eleven years before on the western frontier line of 
New England civilization, Deerfield, under the name of 
Pocumtuck, had come into being. A few years later it had 
ceased to be save in name; again it attempted to struggle 
into life, only to have that life quickly extinguished. Would 
it ever, ever rise from its ashes? 

King Philip's clans had been driven away. Philip him- 
self was dead. For five years silence had brooded over all 
this region, and it had become a lonely "dwelling for owls." 

Who were the pioneers of 1682? I have chosen one who 
in many respects is a typical representative of the early 
settlers while in other ways he stands alone, a unique 
character. 

John Sheldon was a youth of twenty-three when he came 
to Deerfield at the Permanent Settlement. In his veins 
ran the blood of Isaac Sheldon, his father, who in 1654, 
as a first settler, pushed up from Windsor, Connecticut, to 
Northampton, Massachusetts, then in the northern wilder- 
ness. Whoever the ancestors of Isaac Sheldon may have 
been, it is certain that Isaac, the father, and John, the 



2 John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 

son, were born with that love of Anglo-Saxon freedom 
which is the choicest legacy of the English-speaking 
race. 

When John Sheldon came to Deerfield what did he find? 
Dreary cellar holes and crumbling chimneys; deserted 
hearthstones and cheerless fireplaces where the prickly 
thistle, the rank burdock and the overgrown mullein were 
struggling with one another for possession. Here and 
there, perchance, were tell-tale relics — a bit of earthen- 
ware, a chunk of pewter melted in a fire, a half-charred 
palisade, portions of the Common Fence, broken and 
straggling, — these were relics of other pioneers, who in 
1675 and 1677 lived, suffered or were slaughtered on this 
very spot. 

Close by some bubbling spring a ruined wigwam or, it 
may be, a rude tomahawk, half buried in the earth, told of 
the Red Men, and brought to mind the tales of horror John 
had listened to when a boy in his teens. But besides these 
grewsome things, John Sheldon saw promising meadows 
stretching away in every direction to wooded hills, with a 
fish-laden river flowing in the midst. Where we are now 
gathered he may have seen graceful deer grazing beneath 
the slender buttonball which, to-day, in its green old age, 
is our grand living witness of that age of stress and storm. 

The restive spirit of the pioneer grew calmer in the free 
air about him and the large spaces around him. Here he 
would make his home. Here he would bring his seventeen- 
years-old Hannah, already a wife of two years, and John, 
their baby boy. 

Among the men who came at the Permanent Settlement 
were older and more experienced pioneers than John Shel- 
don. Several of the first settlers were still undaunted, 
still ready with brain, heart and hand to build up a new 
plantation. Of these were John Stebbins and Benoni Steb- 
bins, brothers of Hannah Sheldon; Samson Frary, Godfrey 
Nims, Martin Smith, and Richard Weller. The next year 
came John Hawks, followed before 1688 by William Smead, 
John Weller, Joseph Barnard, Jonathan Wells, Thomas 
Broughton, Thomas Wells, Samuel Carter, John Catlin, 



John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 3 

Thomas French, Daniel Belding, David Hoyt, Benjiman 
Hastings, Simon Beamon, and notably, John Williams, the 
new minister. 

Somehow it makes one fairly glow to think of these hardy 
pioneers, all stirred by a common impulse, that of making 
homes and building a town. Yes, Deerfield would rise again 
from its ashes. It would live, and the deeds of these sturdy, 
freedom-loving folk would be the priceless inheritance of 
unnumbered generations. 

The records of peace are traced usually upon the air 
while those of war are written large on the pages of history. 
Of the period between 1682 and 1688 we know little save 
what reason aided by imagination can supply. 

We see these men of energy and pluck building their 
houses, either of logs or hewn timber, and planting their 
acres with corn, peas, rye, wheat, oats, pumpkins, flax and 
tobacco. Their vigorous wives are raising large families 
of children. In a sense these fathers, mothers and children 
were unschooled, save in "the school of the back woods," 
where experience, ruling with inexorable hand, was master. 
Yet these families, little communities in themselves, were 
trained by one another, just as each individual member 
of a family was disciplined, consciously or unconsciously, 
by every other member, and in the process traits of sterling 
worth developed with originality as the guiding star. 

It was no mean task — this building of a town. On the 
contrary, it was a great undertaking which only freemen 
were fitted to accomplish. After all is said the evolution 
of a town is a reflection of the evolution of the individual 
members of that town. In both, the physical, the affec- 
tional and social, the spiritual and the intellectual needs 
seek satisfaction. In this young settlement the physical 
and social demands were being supplied. More or less 
comfortable homes, well stocked with the necessities of 
life, and gradually rilling with little boys and girls were 
scattered along the Street. 

Yonder stands the house of one of these pioneers, Sam- 
son Frary, which he built some time "after 1683 " and which, 
it is known with certainty, was standing in 1698. It is our 



4 John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 

sacred witness of the pioneer days of Deerfield, and thrice 
fortunate is this Association in its possession. 

The spiritual wants of this community were considered 
before the intellectual needs, and even before any civil 
action was taken looking toward the incorporation of the 
town. The fact that both human nature and the law re- 
quired the calling of a minister to serve as spiritual guide 
was proof that the church was a necessity. It may, in 
truth, be questioned whether the men and women of that 
sad, stern century from 1683 to 1783, could have survived 
without their faith in the personal God of the Puritan 
creed. 

In the spring or early summer of 1686, John Williams 
took up his life work in the waiting field, and it continued 
for a period of forty-three years. Little did John Sheldon 
dream at this time how intimate and tender would become 
his relations with his pastor in the next twenty years! 

December 16, 1686, was an epoch in the history of Deer- 
field. It was then, so far as can be ascertained, that the 
first town meeting was held. At last the time had come when 
the diverse elements, of their own free will, joined them- 
selves into one fairly harmonious whole, and elected officers 
who should control the affairs of the town. "Is there any- 
thing more valuable among Anglo-Saxon institutions," says 
James K. Hosmer, than the "New England town meeting. 
What a list of important men can be cited who have declared 
in the strongest terms that tongue can utter the convic- 
tion of its preciousness ! It has been alleged that to this 
more than anything else was due the supremacy of England 
i/yi. ever America, the successful colonization out of which 
grew at last the United States." This habit of thinking 
and governing for one's self is the unique privilege of a free 
people. 

John Sheldon, young, alert and ready to take a hand 
at the wheel, was elected at this first meeting one of the 
Selectmen or Townsmen, who were Assessors as well; high- 
way surveyors, and other officers were also chosen. "The 
whole action," says the historian of Deerfield, "appears to 
have been that of an independent Commonwealth." 



John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 5 

There were, perhaps, at this time fifty men, heads of 
families, settled on the Street, many of whom owned their 
homes. Soon after 1687, John Sheldon bought homestead 
No. 12 on the west side of the Street including the northern 
slope of Meetinghouse Hill. This homestead was first held 
by "Worshipful John Pynchon" of Springfield, who, how- 
ever, never came here to live. John Hawks, uncle to Colonel 
John Hawks of Fort Massachusetts fame, was the first to 
occupy it. He lived here before 1675, and again in 1683 
or 1684, but after 1687, John Sheldon bought the lot of 
Pynchon. Soon after the purchase Ensign John added one 
and a half acres to the south side from home lot No. 13. 
Somewhere on this lot he probably lived in a cabin built 
by himself or by John Hawks, awaiting the time when he 
should be able to build a house to his liking. 

Fain would we linger in this growing, thriving Common- 
wealth, this product of the activity and foresight of the 
pioneers. The sky above them was clear, the air bracing, 
and life was promising. 

Surely it would seem as if this settlement, isolated from 
any large center, apparently remote from wars and rumors 
of wars, might live on peacefully in its environment of 
idyllic beauty such as only the valley of the Connecticut 
knows how to offer. This, however, was far indeed from 
the truth. More than a century before a powerful nation 
across one thousand leagues of surging water had fixed 
its keen eye on this fair western land. It had sent daunt- 
less explorers up the St. Lawrence and down the Mississippi, 
and wherever they had gone they had planted the lilies of 
France in the name of the holy Catholic church. New 
France was growing larger and stronger every year, and 
its lusty youth was full of promise. Before it reached 
maturity, however, a strange thing happened. All unwit- 
tingly another powerful nation, also three thousand miles 
away, had driven from their native land some of its ablest 
men and bravest women. This choice seed drifting across 
the Atlantic took root on the eastern shores of America. 
Wherever this happened the flag of Old England was planted 
in the name of the holy Protestant church. Soon New 



6 John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 

England sprang into life. Thus it came about that in the 
last quarter of the seventeenth century two races were 
dominating America, the one of Latin stock, the other of 
Anglo-Saxon origin — the one Catholic, the other Protestant. 

In one respect these two different races were alike. Both 
had clutched at America with hooks of steel, and with both 
it was victory or death. In another respect, also, they 
were not unlike. Neither race was far enough removed 
from the savage condition to discern the evil effects of 
employing Indians as allies. Thus it was that a war of 
conquest and religion, always fierce and bloody, was made 
more appalling by the fiendish atrocities of barbaric man. 

Where should the first blow be struck? Certainly not in 
the more populous and well-protected centers. The field 
glasses of France and England alike swept the frontier 
line of New England and rested longest and most signif- 
icantly upon the isolated settlements. Instead of being 
secluded in a peaceful environment these settlements were 
rather in the very lime light of hideous war. It is the old, 
old story. Through all the centuries the pioneers of thought 
and action have held the danger posts and the signal tow- 
ers of earth. 

The law of growth and development, often called the 
spirit of independence, was operating on this side of the 
Atlantic. What did England, the mother country on the 
other side, give her growing child? Certainly not encour- 
agement or inspiration. On the contrary she checked 
growth in very many ways. In 1684, the English High 
Court of Chancery declared the charter of Massachusetts 
forfeited, and the Crown sent over men of its own choosing 
to serve as Governors. James II commissioned Sir Ed- 
mund Andros governor of all New England. Sir Edmund's 
father had been master of ceremonies to Charles I, and 
Edmund himself had stood high in the favor of Charles II. 
The sympathies of Sir Edmund were with Catholic France, 
so that the Puritan colonists in New England became 
alarmed. Day after day the east wind brought tidings to 
this quiet valley that roused the inhabitants to alertness. 
Men gathered in groups and discussed the situation. Each 



John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 7 

had an opinion of his own and expressed it with emphasis. 
While the men talked the women asked one another, "What 
will the outcome be? " 

News of the Revolution of 1688 which swept James II 
from the throne was received in this country in April, 1689. 
A few days later, as you all know, Andros, who had ruled 
with a tyrant's hand, was seized in Boston and put in 
prison. The government was then assumed by a Commit- 
tee of Safety. This Committee issued a call May 2d for 
the towns to choose representatives to meet in Boston, 
May 9th. Little was done at this meeting so that a second 
call was sent out for another meeting, May 22d. There 
is no evidence on our town records that either of these 
calls ever reached Deerfield, but a paper found by Sheldon 
in the Massachusetts Archives and printed in his " History 
of Deerfield," proves that a meeting was held here May 17th. 
From this paper it is evident that John Sheldon engineered 
the movement which resulted in sending Thomas Wells as 
a representative of the town to the meeting of the revolu- 
tionary committee. 

Think for a moment of the real significance of this move- 
ment. Every soldier and every man in civil office who 
joined the revolutionists was subject to the penalty of high 
treason. The situation, however, called for immediate 
action, regardless of consequences, and the men were ready. 
They were also wise and so covered their tracks that no 
trace of their doings could be found in the town records 
by the prying eyes of Andros and Randolph. Only a manu- 
script in the well-guarded Archives of the state revealed 
the truth. 

Fortunately for John Sheldon and his compeers the 
revolution of 1688 was not a failure, and William and Mary 
held the throne. But now Protestant England and Catholic 
France were at war, and consequently the English colonies 
were in danger. If the French could not subdue by subtle 
intrigue they could employ their allies, the Indians, to har- 
ass and perhaps ultimately exterminate. Already a party 
of Indians had been sent out by the Governor of Canada 
to scalp and kill. Six persons had been murdered in North- 



8 John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 

field. The alarm became so general that in 1690 that town 
was deserted. Nothing now lay between Deerfield and 
Canada but the forest — the haunt of the Indians and their 
pathway from and to Canada. 

The fearful massacre at Schenectady, February 18, 1690, 
roused the men of Deerfield to action. They saw clearly 
that there is no time but the present. At a legal town meet- 
ing February 26th, it was voted, "That y r shall be a good 
sufficient fortification made upon the meeting hous hill." 
"That y e fortification shall be don and finished by y e 8th 
of March next emediately ensuing." Those who could not 
be accommodated in the houses already standing on the 
Hill, and who had not the means to build for themselves, 
were to have houses built for them at the town's charge. 
Sergeant John Sheldon with two others should "have full 
power to appoint where every person's hous or cellar shall 
stand w* bigness y a shall be." 

Is it possible for you and me to have any realizing sense 
of the conditions existing here in 1690! In spite of the 
fact that Deerfield was absolutely defenseless, in the very 
face of the hellish barbarities of the Indians urged on by 
the French — barbarities that make the blood shiver in our 
veins — in spite of these things, not a word has come down 
to us that any one of these fifty or sixty men thought of de- 
serting Deerfield and seeking safety in the towns below. On 
the contrary, these men in town meeting assembled, voted 
affirmatively to build a stockade big enough to include the 
whole population, and to build it in ten days! Energy 
like this challenges admiration for this human race of ours, 
and gives us an abiding faith in its large possibilities. 

The palisade was done, but in the process what a change 
had come about! The last vestige of light -heartedness had 
taken to itself wings, and a tense, strained condition of 
heart, brain, eye, ear had taken its place. A vague, dismal 
uncertainty was in the air, and the intuitions of both men 
and women foreboded ill. A garrison of sixty soldiers, sent 
up from Connecticut daily emphasized the wearisome truth 
that this was a time of war. In August of the same year 
an epidemic in the valley caused "a hunderd persons sick 



John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 9 

at Deerfiekl," and the death of several prominent men. 
In 1691, one hundred and fifty Indians appeared and set- 
tled in the woods east of Wapping, and fear of their treach- 
ery haunted the people. In February, 1692, word reached 
Deerfield that a large army of French and Indians were 
moving southward from Lake Champlain. Again in the 
middle of May they were expected, but the cowardly as- 
sailants, finding they could not surprise, marched eastward. 
This year John Sheldon was appointed Ensign and also 
elected Selectman. 

When 1693 opened Deerfield was indeed at ebb tide. 
Provisions were scanty owing to the impossibility of raising 
crops far from the fort the summer before. In its dire need 
the town besought the General Court for soldiers, for am- 
munition and for an abatement of taxes; in a word, for 
"such helps and relief e as our necessities if not extreame 
difficulties call for." 

The record at this time is an illuminating study of the 
New England character as influenced by the conservative 
tendencies of the Motherland. With death by the toma- 
hawk on the one hand and death by starvation on the other, 
these people assembled and voted, March 11, 1693, "that 
the meetinghouse shall be new seated," and that Deacon 
John Sheldon should be one of three to do it. The un- 
democratic custom of Old England of seating the worship- 
ers by rank was rigidly adhered to by the Puritans, in 
spite of their totally different environment. 

The spring months were spent in watching, warding, 
scouting and planting. When the sun went down on the 
night of June 5th, all Nature tried to impart its own seren- 
ity to the troubled hearts in this little town, alone, as it 
were, on the northern frontier. 

O why could not intuition have been strong enough and 
real enough to have guided the footsteps of all to the palisade 
on Meetinghouse Hill! Why could not some thought have 
been transferred across the fields of air as a warning mes- 
sage to these innocent souls. The people slept as though 
awake, doubtless dreaming of what was ever in their day 
thoughts when the cry "Indians!" "Indians!" pierced the 



10 John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 

still night air. "Thomas Broughton and his wife and chil- 
dren are killed ! " " The Wells girls are scalped ! ' ' 

In the darkness of night there had been a sudden rush 
and a blow, eight times repeated — then silence all. The 
perpetrators had gone as they came like the wind, and no 
hand had been stretched out to aid. Two men, however, 
had escaped, and now there was a wild scurrying to the 
fort. At last all were inside the stockade, John Sheldon, his 
wife Hannah and their five small children among the rest. 

As the dwellers on the slopes of Vesuvius return after 
every eruption and rebuild their homes on the sides of the 
fiery mountain, so the men and women of Deerfield after 
every attack left the safety of their fort and went back to 
their daily tasks at the imminent risk of a horrible fate. 
Do you say they had to do it or starve? Ah, but there were 
safe havens in the towns below. 

In justice to themselves and the town of their own mak- 
ing they sent a cry from the heart to the heart of the Old 
Bay Colony for help in their distress. Slowly relief came. 
In the meantime news reached Deerfield that Brookfield 
on the east had been attacked on July 27th, and seven 
persons killed and others captured. October 13th, their 
own beloved minister, Mr. Williams, had barely escaped 
capture at Broughton's Pond. The next day Martin Smith 
on his way to Wapping was taken and carried to Canada. 

In the knowledge of such dastardly deeds, and in the 
hourly possibility of still worse calamities nine months 
passed, when on September 15th, 1694, Baron de Castine 
with his army of French and Indians after traveling hun- 
dreds of miles, approached the town, intending to pounce 
upon it, and sweep it from the face of the earth. While 
creeping cautiously down one of the ravines east of the 
Street they were discovered by a lad who gave the alarm. 
Then the people flew. Mrs. Hannah Beamon, the school 
dame, and her children, among whom were probably little 
John, Hannah and Mary Sheldon, ran as they never ran 
before, and all got safely to the fort. 

Preparations had been made for such an emergency; 
Castine was driven back, and out of this first victory of the 



John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 11 

Deerfield men courage and confidence were born. Evi- 
dence of this is found in the vote of the town taken two 
weeks later, John Sheldon, moderator, to build a new meet- 
inghouse. This vote proved that the people were here 
to stay, and although it took seven years to complete the 
structure, nevertheless the difficulties were surmounted and 
at last it was finished. 

In 1695, one of Deerfield's leading men, Joseph Barnard, 
was killed by a party of Indians in ambush at Indian bridge. 
From the beginning of the year 1696 to its end, says Shel- 
don, "fear and distress pervaded the household, danger 
and death lurked in every by-way about the fields." In 
spite of this desperate situation civil duties were not neg- 
lected, and March 2d, a penalty of one shilling was laid 
upon every legal voter who, after being warned, did not 
attend town meeting. 

It was late one day in September when Daniel Belding, 
an influential man of the town, returned home from the 
field with a load of corn. In that home was Elizabeth, his 
wife, and eight of his children, and the heart of Daniel 
Belding grew warm and glad at the sight of them. As 
silent as the moving cloud the Indians drew near. In less 
than fifteen minutes, his wife and three children were dead; 
he and two children were captives in the hands of the sav- 
ages, one boy was tomahawked and left for dead, one girl 
shot in the arm while fleeing to the fort, and all that was 
left was Sarah hidden away in a chamber. 

There are realities of life which it is not in the power of 
any language to adequately portray. I have touched upon 
some of these simply to show you in what school John 
Sheldon was trained. From 1688 to 1698, it was a school 
where every human faculty was sharpened, and where 
dauntless resolution was always pitted against inhuman 
slaughter. 

The Peace of Ryswick was declared in Quebec, Septem- 
ber 22, 1698. Deerfield had asserted and proved its right 
to be, and at last its inhabitants could la} r down the gun 
and sword, and turn to the pursuits of civilization. Very 
soon the minds of the people grew heated over the question 



12 John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 

of the education of the young. A schoolhouse must be 
built, a master hired and the "heads of families y* have 
Children whether male or female, between y e ages of six 
and ten years, shall pay by the poll to s d school whether y a 
send such children to School or not." Each year a com- 
mittee was chosen to look after school matters, and one 
year the committee consisted of John Sheldon, William 
Arms and Eliezer Hawks. 

At last the time had come when Ensign John Sheldon, 
relieved from the stress of war, was free to build a home 
for his family. In order to have his house within the stock- 
ade he acquired from the town this year — 1698— a small 
tract of the training field, adjoining his homelot bought 
ten years before. 

Let us pause here and refresh ourselves over the happy 
picture of John and Hannah planning their home, and 
watching it develop day by day. It was just such a house 
as you might predict a man like John Sheldon would build 
— strong foundations, a massive frame of heavy oak beams, 
bullet-proof doors and walls, broad boards forming hand- 
some panels, a chimney built of bricks and clay mortar 
which would defy the tests of time — a house, plain, very 
plain, but enduring. 

Little did John and Hannah dream while sitting together 
at the open door watching their frolicsome children under 
the leafy buttonball, that this house — this creation of their 
own thought — would be described and pictured in histories 
and in school books to remote generations. Little did they 
dream that the stout front door with its strong iron hinges 
would be held as a sacred memorial, and viewed by thou- 
sands and tens of thousands through coming centuries. 

Well for them they did not dream it. Let us not think 
of it. Let us rather catch the inspiration of those few 
years from 1698 to 1702 when the people of Deerfield really 
lived. Let us go, you and I, to the housewarming when 
John and Hannah and their five boys and girls, with the 
neighbors round about were glad, yes, merry in the big, 
new house. There was Hannah's brother John Stebbins 
with Dorothy Alexander, his wife, and their five children; 



John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 13 

her brother, Benoni and Hannah Edwards with seven chil- 
dren; Samson Frary with Mary Daniels and their son, 
Nathaniel, now a young gallant of twenty-three; Godfrey 
Nims and Mehitable Smead with six children; John Hawks 
and Alice with their one-year-old baby; also, John's son, 
John, with his wife, Thankful Smead, and their little one; 
William Smead and wife Elizabeth Lawrence; their son 
Samuel was drawn by some invisible magnet to Mary 
Price, and John to Anna Weld, while their daughter, Wait- 
still, was oftenest seen by the side of Ebenezer Warner. The 
next year the hopes of all these young hearts were realized. 
Jonathan Wells who, when sixteen years old, proved that 
boys as well as men may be heroes, was doubtless here with 
his wife, the widow of Joseph Barnard, with her ten chil- 
dren; Samuel Carter with Mercy Brooks and their four 
children; John Catlin and Mary Baldwin with Ruth, 
Joseph, Jonathan and John, and their married daughter, 
Mary, the wife of Thomas French, with five children; David 
Hoyt with Abigail Cook and four children; Martin Kellogg 
and Sarah Dickinson with five children ; Thomas Hurst and 
Mary Jeffreys with five children; Benjamin Hastings with 
wife, Mary and three children; Henry White and Mary 
Alexander with six children. Here, too, was the dear 
and respected pastor, John Williams, with his wife, 
Eunice Mather and their six children. Moving among the 
little people and entering into their games was Mrs. Han- 
nah Beamon, while her husband, Simon, mingled with the 
groups of men who were discussing the civic affairs of the 
town. Mrs. Beamon must have loved children, since years 
before she had freely opened her house to teach them the 
all important rudiments of knowledge. 

Can you not see the radiance on the worn faces of the 
husbands and fathers as they watch their gladsome wives 
and happy children all intent on having what they so well 
deserved — a joyful time. All join in singing and the merry 
dance begins. Truly we may believe that the great beams 
and rafters and the very foundation stones laughed and 
chuckled together! 

The delights and triumphs of peace are infinitely greater 



14 John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 

than the victories of war, and for three years Deerfield grew 
along civil, educational and industrial lines. John Sheldon 
and the other permanent settlers with whom we are now 
well acquainted, took active part in all the affairs of the 
town. Roads were laid out, mills built, a school maintained 
and a meetinghouse completed. 

It was June, 1702, when the beauty of Nature was at 
flood tide in Deerfield that a black shadow fell over all. 
War was again declared between France and England. At 
a town meeting held June 26th, John Sheldon, moderator, it 
was voted that "the fort shall forthwith be Righted vp." 
September 11th of the same year, John Sheldon, moderator, 
it was voted that Sergeant Hawks shall build within the 
stockade. It must have been with a sense of relief that 
Ensign John looked upon his own dwelling within the 
palisade. In 1703, it was thought the fort must be rebuilt, 
so preparations were made for a possible future, while all 
worked and prayed. 

One of the most graphic and charming pictures in Sheldon's 
" History of Deerfield " is that of "An Evening at Home." 
It is instinct with the home feeling, with the heart's glow 
and the heart's ease and the love-light of home. The scene 
is the kitchen of John Sheldon's house; the time might well 
be the night of February 28, 1704. 

At last the varied activities of the long winter evening 
end, the buzz of the flax wheel and the hum of the big 
wheel cease, and the busy workers lay down to sleep. 

When the sun rose the next morning John Sheldon's wife, 
Hannah, was dead, his youngest child was murdered and 
four children were captives in the hands of the French and 
Indians. 

Of the eighteen families of the early permanent settlers 
with whom we have sung and danced at the housewarming 
only two remain unbroken. That we may realize in some 
measure the actual condition existing here let us ponder 
over the record. 

John Stebbins, wife and six children all swept into Ca- 
nadian captivity. 

Benoni Stebbins killed. 



John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 15 

Samson Frary killed, wife killed on march. 

Godfrey Nims's wife killed on march, five children killed, 
three captured, Godfrey dying soon in consequence. 

John Hawks's wife killed, baby killed on march; his son, 
John Hawks, Jr., wife and three children killed — whole 
family blotted out. 

William Smead's wife killed and daughter Waitstill 
killed on march. 

Samuel Carter's wife killed on march, three children 
killed, four captured. 

John Catlin killed, four children killed, two captured; 
wife surviving only a few weeks. 

Thomas French captured, wife killed on march, one child 
killed, five captured — whole family killed or captured. 

David Hoyt captured and starved on march, wife cap- 
tured, two children killed, three captured. 

Martin Kellogg captured, one child killed, four captured. 

Thomas Hurst's wife captured, one child killed and five 
captured. 

Benjamin Hastings's child captured. 

Rev. John Williams captured, wife killed on march, two 
children killed and five captured — out of eight children only 
one escaping! 

Simon Beamon and wife Hannah captured. 

After this wreckage of home and family, dearest to the 
heart of a man, what did John Sheldon do? Did his brain 
reel and his sense of time and space become as naught? 
No. No. Did he wander aimlessly about talking over and 
over again the horrors of that winter night? No. John 
Sheldon was silent. What, then, did this silent man do? 
He faced the awful reality and — acted. It is because he 
was a man of action, in the supreme agony of life, that 
yonder boulder is reared and his name is written in bronze. 

When his wife Hannah, and little Mercy, and Benoni 
Stebbins, his brother-in-law, and Joseph Catlin, his son- 
in-law, and other comrades with whom he had labored 
for years in founding Deerfield — when all these had been 
laid to rest by the mourning Pocumtuck; when the stricken 
man stood by his desolate hearthstone, his heart with the 



16 John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 

captives in Canada, a resolution more invincible than life 
itself took possession of his soul, and found expression in 
those simple words, "I will bring them home." 

Deerfield staggered under the terrible blow: 48 dead, 111 
captives in Canada; only 25 men, as many women and 75 
children, 43 of whom were under ten years of age, were 
left — more than half of the population taken by one deadly 
swoop! But in the midst of this destruction the house of 
Ensign John Sheldon stood unscathed. Its massive door still 
hung on its stout iron hinges, but now it bore a scar which 
time could not heal. The house was baptized in blood, 
and henceforth for 144 years it would tell its tragic tale to 
the passer-by, while in all New England history it would 
be known as "The Old Indian House." 

The Massachusetts Government had long recognized the 
ability of Ensign John Sheldon, and now appointed him 
Envoy to Canada for the redemption of the Captives. 

When the frosts of December had frozen the rivers the 
man was ready, and by his side stood young John Wells. 
Says the brilliant historical writer, C. Alice Baker: 

"We need not go back to King Arthur for exploits of 
chivalry; our colonial history is full of them. This man 
long past the daring impulses of youth, — this youth whose 
life was all before him — show me two braver knights-errant 
setting out with loftier purpose on a more perilous pil- 
grimage." 

Down the Albany Road walked John Sheldon with firm 
step controlled by an indomitable will, — across the river, 
through "Little Hope" to the larger realm of hope and 
faith beyond; over Hoosac Mountain, along the Mohawk 
Trail to Albany, thence northerly through trackless forests 
down Lake George and Lake Champlain, down the Sorel 
to the St. Lawrence. 

Of the daily life of this man while on this hazardous 
journey we know scarcely nothing. No diary was kept, 
only accounts of expenses to be rendered the home govern- 
ment. We do not know what sufferings he bore; what 
wild beasts or wild men he encountered ; how far he traveled 
by day or by night; what he ate to sustain strength; what 



John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 17 

accidents befell — not one of the thousand experiences that 
make up the history of a day. We know nothing of these 
things, but we do know something infinitely better than all 
these things — we know that the man went on, on, ON : that 
no obstacle was big enough to stop him; that no mountains, 
arctic blasts or treacherous Indians could defeat his ulti- 
mate purpose. We know he reached his goal — Quebec. 
This plain farmer born and bred to the soil, with the homely 
traits and the common sense born of the soil, with his in- 
tellect sharpened by years of training, stood unabashed in 
the presence of the French Governor of Canada, the repre- 
sentative of "His Most Christian Majesty," Louis le Grand. 
We know that John Sheldon labored as only a man with a 
single aim can labor. 

Here in this gay, foreign city he met the pastor of his 
youth and mature manhood, John Williams, and through 
a mutual sorrow their mutual friendship was sealed forever. 

But alas! the ransom of Mr. Williams could not be ob- 
tained. He was a prize to be held for a prize, and the heart 
of John Sheldon was sad within him, but in determination 
and effort he never faltered. 

While in Quebec, Ensign John wrote his son's wife, Han- 
nah, in captivity, a letter, dated April 1, 1705; it begins 
"der child." Could there be anything briefer or sweeter! 
This letter reveals tenderness as well as strength, and the 
clear, firm handwriting is that of a man who had neither 
time nor heart for rounded periods or flourishes. 

At last five captives were released and in May, John 
Sheldon returned to Deerfield, disappointed but not de- 
feated. "In the lexicon of this bright youth," as in that 
of one of his descendants, "there is no such word as fail!" 
We see him at the close of a summer's day, when the shad- 
ows lengthen and thoughts of home burn and glow, walk- 
ing slowly along the crest of the hill through his own home 
lot. He sees nothing around him for his eye is fixed on a 
point in the northern horizon, and his heart, outspeeding 
his vision, is in far off Canada. Suddenly his grave features 
relax, and a light divine illumines his face. The leaves and 
vines above him in sympathy draw closer and catch the 



18 John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 

audible words as they break from his lips, "I will go again!" 
The spot where a noble resolution is born which must in 
its very nature crystallize into action is holy ground ! Such, 
in truth, is the soil of the Old Indian House Homestead! 

In Boston, Governor Dudley and his Council with the 
advice of Lord Cornbury, Governor of New York, was 
negotiating with the Governor of Canada for the exchange 
of prisoners. The proposals of the Canadian Governor 
could not be accepted, and Governor Dudley wrote an 
answer which His Excellency and Council ordered "to be 
dispatched to Quebec by Mr. John Sheldon, attended with 
a servant or two, and two French prisoners of war." 

Accordingly on January 25, 1706, in the very depth of 
winter, John Sheldon as Ambassador from our government 
to the royal government of Canada set out on his tedious 
journey. With him besides the prisoners were Joseph 
Bradley of Haverhill, and his faithful young companion, 
John Wells. A truce had been arranged for five weeks, so 
the party pushed on more speedily, arriving in Quebec "the 
beginning of March." Here conditions were trying in the 
extreme, but John Sheldon had made up his mind that 
French diplomacy and Indian reluctance to give up cap- 
tives must be overcome so far as it lay in human power. 
The large number of French prisoners which Dudley had 
gathered at Port Royal waiting to be exchanged was a 
forceful argument in his plea. After three months' cease- 
less effort attended, as he tells us, with "extraordinary 
Difficulties, Hazzards and Hardships," John Sheldon set 
sail for Boston on May 30th with forty-four English cap- 
tives. They reached their destination August 2d, and a 
week later the journey to Deerfield began. It seems as if 
we could hear the forests all along the Old Bay Path re- 
sounding with their songs of praise. But there was one, 
revered and loved, who was not among them. John Wil- 
liams, still bound, had sent his flock a "Pastoral Letter" 
in which were those vital words, " Thanksliving is the best 
Thanksgiving." 

Now began active operations in collecting French pris- 
oners in exchange for English captives. These prisoners 



John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 19 

had been placed in the different towns and Deerfield had 
two. August 27, 1706, John Sheldon, constable, received 
orders from Lieutenant Colonel Samuel Partridge, com- 
mander in the Valley, "to impress two Squa Lynes and any 
other Necessary the two Frenchmen now going to Canada 
stand in need of." 

The French prisoners, with the prize Captain Baptiste, 
sailed for Quebec in the Hope, and arrived in Canada 
about October 1st. When the vessel returned the result 
of these negotiations was apparent; in the Hope came John 
Williams with 57 other captives to Boston. Then a great 
wave of rejoicing swept from the Bay to the Valley. John 
Sheldon was chosen as agent for the town of Deerfield to 
go to Boston, and invite Mr. Williams to return to his old 
field of labor. 

But there were still ninety captives in Canada who must 
be redeemed. Governor Dudley proposed to his Council Jan- 
uary 14, 1707, to have "a Person Ledger at Quebec, to put 
forward that affair, and that Mr. John Sheldon who has 
been twice already may be employed with a suitable retinue 
to undertake a journey thither on that service." In ac- 
cordance with these instructions, in the middle of April, John 
Sheldon for a third time set out on his, "perilous pilgrim- 
age." Although the party bore a flag of truce it was a time 
when French and Indians were thirsty for blood. In full 
realization of the treachery of human nature in time of 
war, John Sheldon pressed steadily on. One incident only 
of this journey is known to us. It is recorded in Ensign 
John's own hand as an item in the charge for expenses: 
"To an Indian to guide us into the way when bewildered 
6 livres." The party was lost; they knew neither north 
nor south, east nor west. In their bewilderment an Indian 
guided them "into the way." This kindly deed is like the 
flash of a search light in the darkness. 

Quebec was reached May 9th, but now John Sheldon 
found he was in the enemy's country in very truth, and that 
enemy in active preparation to meet an expected attack 
by the English. He was watched constantly to prevent 
home communication, and though actually Leger, that 



20 John Sheldon and the Old Indian House. 

is, Resident Minister at Quebec, he was virtually little bet- 
ter than a prisoner. Under these discouraging circumstances 
he was able at last to secure the release of only seven cap- 
tives, and when he left, the embassy was accompanied by 
five French soldiers, under the command of Captain de 
Chambly, brother of Hertel de Rouville, the man who had 
destroyed Deerfield. 

John Sheldon had brought or been instrumental in bring- 
ing 113 captives from Canada to New England. His career 
is epitomized in the inscription upon the tablet we dedicate 
to-day, and this inscription summarizes my paper: 

John Sheldon 1658-1733 

Hannah Stebbins 1664-1704 

Married Nov. 5, 1679 

The home of John Sheldon was on this lot. 

Here, Feb. 29, 1704, his wife and one child were killed 

and four children were taken captive 

by the French and Indians. 

John Sheldon was a permanent settler 1682 

Member of the first Board of Selectmen, 

Deacon of the First Church, 

Ensign of the first military company. 

A Leader in civil affairs. 

Guide in a political crisis. 

Envoy for the redemption of captives in Canada Dec, 1704 

Ambassador for the exchange of prisoners Jan., 1706 

Leger at Quebec 1707 

The three journeys were overland through the wilderness. 

Once again in 1714 

Captain Sheldon then of Connecticut was secured 

by our Government on a fourth mission. 

This Homestead is presented to the 

Pocumtuck Valley Memorial Association 

to be forever kept in memory of 

the eminent services of John Sheldon 

and the scene 

where his great life tragedy was enacted. 

To mark this historic ground 

the Association places this tablet 

A. D. 1910. 

John Sheldon, in common with all of us, could not choose 
the age or the place in which to be born; these are matters 
beyond our control. But given the century and the envi- 



John Sheldon and the Old Indian House, 21 

ronment, he set himself wholly — body, mind, heart, spirit — 
to do the work which that century demanded of him. His 
was an age of turbulence and sorrow when human lives 
were spent in the shadow, but in spite of these conditions 
John Sheldon strove persistently for the building of a town, 
and, thereby, for the building of New England and the 
building of a nation. 

No more fitting memorial to Ensign John Sheldon could 
there be than his own homestead, where he lived, loved and 
suffered, and where his descendants lived for nearly a 
century. 

Certainly no more tender tribute to his life of service 
could be paid by his very great-grandson than the gift of 
this homestead to the Pocumtuck Valley Memorial Asso- 
ciation which will hold it forever sacred. 

The life of John Sheldon is a bugle call to action, action 
for the age in which we live. Let us, every one of us, heed 
the call. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



014 077 362 1 



